


Just Know, Thieves Get Caught

by CharlieBradbury



Series: Lovers and Caffeine-Fiends [2]
Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Darcy is grouchy, F/F, Pity Pasta, it's Natasha's fault, it's a thing dammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieBradbury/pseuds/CharlieBradbury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the smoke cleared from the whole "Oh God Tony Stark is going to die no wait he's fine but hey now my girlfriend's a freaking spy what's up with that" thing, Darcy's a little pissy.  Rightfully so, she thinks.</p><p>And then Natasha texts her six times. And shows up at her door.  And all Darcy really wants is to be angry and eat some Pity Pasta in peace.</p><p>(Reading the rest of the series would greatly improve one's ability to understand this story but isn't strictly necessary.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Know, Thieves Get Caught

Darcy sighs with relief at the text that Jane shows her. Tony’s safe and sound, according to Thor. She sinks back into her ratty couch, the worn-out springs groaning.

“Thank fuck for that,” she moans. Jane smiles encouragingly from her seat in her armchair. She and Darcy have been roommates for almost four years, but lately-

“I’m going to go over to Thor’s,” Jane says as she stands to gather her purse.

Darcy doesn’t pout, but it’s a near thing. More and more lately her best friend’s been leaving her alone. And now Natasha’s been revealed to be some sort of secret agent or something. The relief that Darcy felt a minute ago is replaced by a bitter lonesomeness. “You should just move in with him already,” she says shortly.

Jane laughs in disbelief. “What? Why would I? We’ve only been dating a few months-“

“Yeah but it’s inevitable. If you look at the facts.”

Darcy toys with the zipper of her hoodie, scowling. Huffing a breath, Jane tosses a cushion at her. “Shut up. I’m not leaving you alone to wallow in whatever’s got you throwing yourself a pity party. Yeah, maybe someday I’ll move out or you will. But it’s not today, or any time soon. You can be so whiny, you know that?”

"Meh meh meh," Darcy mimics.

“Love you too,” Jane retorts as she walks out the door, locking it behind her. Darcy moans pitiably, leaning over on her side to crash into the cushions. She stares around her cluttered, messy apartment, and feels…well how the fuck does she feel?

She feels a bit betrayed, honestly. She really, really, really likes Natasha. She likes her bright smiles that come at the oddest moments. Her weird way of talking, her strange sense of humor. The silly little things she notices and the games she plays (making up back-stories for people they pass on the sidewalk and making Darcy giggle stupidly into her ice cream). But Natasha had lied to her face, and she’d fallen for it. Darcy has no idea who she is, if all the time they spent together was for fun, or for some weird job fulfillment.

Letting out an exasperated noise, Darcy rolls over and presses her face into the couch. Until she thinks about whether or not Thor and Jane have gotten into any hanky panky on her precious couch; and she sits up so fast her head spins. She cradles her head in her hands, her thoughts spinning in useless circles.

The chorus of Milkshake blasts from her cell phone, sitting on the coffee table. She just glares at it, telling herself not to check the text. Natasha has no right to be texting her right now, not so soon after her dramatic reveal. Darcy stands and walks into the dimly lit kitchen as the phone finally ceases ringing, pulling open a cabinet and taking out some elbow noodles. Nothing like some useless carbs and fat to make her feel better.

_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like-_

Pulling out a small pot, Darcy smirks just a little. Yes, squirm Natasha, squirm!

_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like-_

She outright laughs. Natasha’s never been one to communicate very much. Darcy would be touched if she wasn’t so pissed. She pours some water noisily into the pan.

_\- brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like-_

“Getting a bit creepy, Nat,” Darcy mutters as she puts the pot of water on the stove and turns the burner to high. Suddenly, there’s a series of sharp knocks at the door. Darcy jumps a little, startled. She makes her wary way to the entrance, staring out of the peephole. Natasha stands just outside, staring blankly up at her. Silently, Darcy walks back to the couch and sits down with a pillow clutched to her chest. Maybe if she pretends she’s not here, Natasha will leave and she can just act like she never met the other woman and go back to her mediocre life-

_My milkshake brings all the-_

“Fuck my life,” she groans.

Natasha’s voice is muffled by the door. “Darcy, I know you’re in there. You never leave without your phone. And the only other place you’d be right now is the hospital with Tony, and you’re not there either.”

“So-what, the concept of a locked door escapes you?” Darcy bites out sharply.

Natasha’s silent for a moment. Darcy gets up with jerky movements, staring down at the pot of water as if willing it to boil and give her something to do.

_My milkshake-_

“And stop texting me!” she shouts. She stomps back into the living, snatches up her phone, and turns it on silent without so much as glancing at the texts. She drops it back to the scratched wooden surface with a clatter. She stands with her arms akimbo, as if daring anything anywhere to make a noise. Grim silence is all that she hears. Nodding in satisfaction, she returns to the kitchen to find her water’s boiling.

As the noodles cook, she paces back and forth between the kitchen and the living room. She’s totally not checking her phone to see if it’ll happen to light up when she’s near it. No, she’s just-anxious. And needs more exercise. Yep. Besides her phone hasn’t done anything in the past five minutes. And Natasha must have left, for all she’s talking. Curiosity overtaking her, Darcy goes to check. Squinting out of her peephole, she sees that Natasha’s still out there. She’s sitting on the ground, her knees pulled up and her face buried in her arms.

Darcy clenches her teeth and leans her forehead against the cold wood of the door. Eyes closed, images of Natasha flash through her mind. Happy, angry, sexy, that one time she actually looked vulnerable and then didn’t call Darcy back for a fucking month. No one can be that good of an actress, no one. At least, that’s what Darcy wants to believe. Inhaling deeply, she unlocks her door. Natasha’s head snaps up as she leans out into the hallway. Her face is neutral for the most part, but there’s a tiny crease in her forehead, an extra shine in her eyes. It makes Darcy’s stomach twist painfully.

“Get in here before I remember how pissed I am,” Darcy says plainly. Natasha gets to her feet with her usual grace. Darcy closes the door with a dull thud, locking it again. Natasha toes off her boots, avoiding Darcy’s eyes. Crossing her arms and walking back to the couch, Darcy sits down and glares at the other woman. “Well?”

“You want an explanation.” It’s not a question. Natasha crosses the living room and sits down at the opposite end of the couch, bending one leg and sitting on it like she always does. “The short version is that I work for a group that likes to keep tabs on people who could become threats to national security. Steve’s on that list. I fucked up and had to go undercover, which isn’t something someone of my rank should but it got approved. And then Stark,” she laughs softly, “had to go make everything complicated.” Pausing, Natasha looks around the apartment slowly, taking in the movie posters and bookcases and entertainment. “I met you. And I wanted-I want you. It made me so angry. That I could barely control myself around you. But you make me-you fill in the gaps.”

“So I’m just plaster to you then?” Darcy snidely remarks.

Natasha scowls. “Don’t. You know what I mean. You make my nightmares go away. You make all the things that have happened to me seem less important.” Her voice raises. “I’m trying to work this out, but if all you’re going to do is sass me then I’ll save my breath.”

“You’re pissed at me because I’m upset that you lied to me this whole time?!” Darcy exclaims. “I don’t know who you are for real! Is your name even Natasha? I mean, now I know why I hardly ever see you at school, since you don’t even go there. But the worst thing of all, the thing I’m freaked about? If you lied about all that then what else did you lie about?”

“I don’t like wine,” the redhead states blandly. “I hated 500 Days of Summer.”

“What?”

“Terrible movie. The manic-pixie-dream-girl set up is tired, and the acting is below par. Don’t get me started on the dialogue.”

Darcy rubs her temples with both hands. “Are you seriously trying to joke with me right now?”

“Well, ‘seriously joking’ hardly makes sense. And no, I really didn’t like it.” Despite herself, Darcy grins and looks up into Natasha’s face. The smile Natasha gives her in return is so gentle that Darcy feels her heart drop to her stomach. “I am sorry. That I had to lie about my real job to you.”

“I know,” Darcy grumbles. “I know you are. I’m just…I guess I’m freaking out. Surprise surprise, I know. I just…” She leans back into the couch, fisting her hands into her hoodie pockets to keep from reaching out to the other girl. “I don’t do this whole serious relationship thing very often. And, I-I trusted you.” She swallows hard, her voice threatening to crack. “I thought I knew almost everything about you. And then you blindside me with this secret agent bullshit.”

Natasha sounds tired when she speaks. “I don’t do this either. I usually just cut and run when something like this happens. I haven’t lied to you about anything important.” Her gaze runs up and down Darcy’s body, and the brunet has to clench her teeth to not shudder. “I don’t want to run,” she says softly, sliding over the cushions to trace her fingers down the side of Darcy’s face.

Darcy looks down into her lap, stubbornly clinging to her anger. “If we stay-if we keep going, are you going to have to lie to me again?”

Natasha’s hand stills, cupping Darcy’s jaw. “Not unless you ask about my work. Or whether those jeans make you look fat.”

Scoffing in offense and surprise, Darcy shoves at the redhead’s shoulder. “Bitch!” Natasha rocks back into her seat, smiling mischievously. She grips the hand that Darcy had shoved at her, and tugs gently. Darcy lets herself be pulled into an odd sort of embrace. Sighing in defeat, Darcy pillows her head on Natasha’s chest and wraps her free arm around the girl’s waist.

Natasha combs her fingers through Darcy’s long wavy hair, murmuring, “I am so sorry that I hurt you.”

“Just don’t ever do it again. Like _ever,_ ” Darcy says into her cleavage. She picks up her head, pursing her lips for a kiss. Natasha gladly complies, but she’s too gentle, too cautious. Darcy huffs through her nose, shifting and sitting herself in Natasha’s lap. “Tasha,” she whispers.

Natasha smiles down at her sadly. “I may hurt you again. I don’t want to, but-how I am, I can’t promise-“

Darcy silences her with a hard kiss, pressing until Natasha has to bite gently at her lips. “It’s okay. I can handle it, I’m a big girl.” She kisses her again, sliding her tongue along sharp teeth. “Please, don’t go away. Please,” she pleads.

Natasha doesn’t reply, gripping Darcy’s legs and pressing her into the couch. She licks greedily into Darcy’s mouth, claiming all she can taste. Darcy wraps her arms around Natasha’s neck, nails digging into the leather of her jacket. She tugs at the material, and Natasha leans back long enough to strip it off before diving back down and biting harshly at Darcy’s neck. Darcy inhales sharply, letting the air out as a moan when-

“Oh my God, my Pity Pasta!” she shouts.

Laughing, Natasha lets the shorter girl push her away and roll off the couch. “I was wondering when you’d smell it.”

“Shut up, I was sulking, I deserved Pity Pasta,” Darcy shouts as she jerks the pot of ruined noodles off of the stove, turning on the tap to full blast. The hot metal hisses and steam curls around Darcy’s scowling face. “You dinner destroyer. Pasta perpetrator.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Natasha says quietly, wrapping her arms around Darcy’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. “We can order delivery. My treat.”

“Damn skippy it’ll be your treat.” She sighs, unable to resist leaning back into the warm body holding her. “We-we’ll be okay Natasha. I know that you had no choice, or whateves, with your job. I’m just…”

“You’re dealing with it. I understand.” Natasha’s hands start wandering, running down Darcy’s thighs and generous hips, up her arms and under her chin. She leans her head into the caress, humming pleasantly. “Thank you.”

“Do it again and I’ll make you watch The Notebook. I will tie you down and-“

“I think I’d rather tie you down,” Natasha breathes into her ear, dragging her nails lightly down her chest.

“Oh my God, not fair!” Darcy whines, stomping her foot petulantly. She drops the pan into the sink, turning in Natasha’s embrace. “Distracting me when I’m threatening you, that’s just not fair.” Darcy frames Natasha’s face with her fingers, looking up into her eyes with a rare serious expression. “Seriously, no secrets. Or else.”

Grinning, Natasha says, “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a girl scout, there you go lying again!” Darcy chuckles, pulling Natasha in for a long, slow kiss. They would be all right. Goddammit, they would or Darcy would have words with whoever made Natasha lie to her in the first place.

No one would keep them apart. She’d use her taser if she had to.


End file.
